unknown worries
by Mentallymoo
Summary: Set after HBP. Harry goes over the past 3 years and decides he should be punished. Alot of thinking and nonsense and a poem thrown in also WARNING cutting. oneshot


Ahhhh yes Cutting and sorrow. It's my first Harry Potter fic and seeing as I can't keep a story going it is a one shot. So I hope you enjoy and it's pretty graphic I guess. Depends if U have ever cut before. And it may be triggering so be warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that's valuable for that matter.

Sorry about the poem further down in the story. I usually write ok ones but damn it is hard to write a poem about a wizard. Lol.

Pieces of parchment are scattered all over the floor looking ripped and drawn with emotion. The text books are spread in various places in the small bedroom still in the position they were when they landed after being thrown by there frustrated owner. The dark haired boy sits at the window with a frown and pained expression on his face. His waiting for something but he quite doesn't know what.

Harry sighs and turns around slowly. He picks up his defense against the dark arts text book and a spare piece of parchment. He tries once again to write his essay on Morsmordre spell but all he can remember is that it conjures dark magic. The book once again goes flying across the room. The thought of searching for that stupid spell in his text book when his feeling this down is just way too much.

Harry gets to his knees and shuffles over to the loose floor board under his bed. He listens closely but all he can hear is the sounds of his uncle and cousin snoring. Content with that fact, he lifts the board and pulls out a razor. He sits for a moment contemplating if he really feels this bad that he should raise red rivers.

"I deserve it and I need it. It's satisfying and its payback for me as I practically killed Sirius, Professor Dumbledore and Cedric. I am sorry I let you guys down," Harry whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek.

He wiped it away furiously. "Crying is weak. Why do I cry? I have to do this. I have to stop it" He murmured and he dragged the sharp tool over his soft flesh.

Harry sat back to admired his first cut in almost 2 months. He had been really good while he was at school. He only cut when things got out of hand. But now that he was back at the Dursleys' things had become bad once again. He was given a small meal once a day and made to do endless chores along with being yelled at, at least 50 times a day, for even the smallest things. He would give anything to be back at school right now. At least then Hermione could help him with his homework.

The blood slowly pools to the surface in what looks to be small blobs. _'This won't do'_, he thought and dug the razor deeper into his arm. This time the blood gets to the surface a lot quicker and slowly runs down his arm as he holds it up. Mesmerized Harry makes another cut and watches the 2 rivers connect and move to his elbow much quicker, dripping slowly onto some parchment.

Harry grabs his quill and with the razor makes 7 more cuts down his arm. He lets the blood drip onto the parchment making a border of blood droplets. _'That's how many more weeks I have in this hell, 10'_, he thinks as the borders gets thicker with each passing minute. He then puts his quill to the paper and starts writing.

I'm always being noticed  
For a hideous scar on my head  
It makes me feel degraded  
With the stories I am fed

I am the biggest failure  
That is unknown to man  
A boy with theoretical power  
Welcomed by fan after fan

Juggling with the fate  
Of all the magical kind  
With such high expectations  
Victory will be hard to find

The evil fucking snake  
His ready to strike  
But I am merely 16  
And the prophecy I do not like

How can pure evil be stopped  
When it's more powerful then me  
The make believe hero  
Intended to bring victory

But that's all it is  
Make believe shit  
For I am only 16  
And to be a hero I am not fit

Why can't life be easy  
I want them all back  
Memories aren't enough  
Just cut me some slack

"ahhhhhh that poem is stupid", Harry cries and slams the razor on the parchment and drags it across. "that's going to make it blunt", he says more quietly and digs it deep into his wrists. "I am a failure once again. I can't handle this", he whispers as he drags the razor downwards.

He screws up his face in pain as he does it another time and then makes 2 incisions to his other arm as well. The blood comes rushing out like he has never seen it before. Occasionally it makes small squirts and he notices his floor has large pools of dark red liquid.

Harry grabs one of his oversized hand-me-down shirts and puts it over the puddle. He then gets 2 more and places them gently over his wounds to stop the squirting.

Harry starts getting uneasy and wonders if there is any turning back. Then he thinks back to everything he has done and slams his arm into one of his bed posts. The pain is intense but he knows it's only a little bruising. He starts to feel weak and sleepy so he gets up and lies down on his bed, resting his head softly on his under stuffed pillow.

"This is what I have been waiting for", he whispered as a huge smile crossed his pale face_. 'I can be with everyone I love and one day Hermione, Ron and Ginny will be with me as well'_ he thought. Slowly he closed his eyes and the pain he felt from the cuts suddenly went numb as he drifted off into a never ending sleep.


End file.
